


Where the Heart Is

by Wallwalker



Category: Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth
Genre: Alcohol, Community: temps_mort, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no place like home, Badrach figures, even if it's a real dump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the A Ending. Originally written for [Temps Mort](http://community.livejournal.com/temps_mort) on Livejournal. Rated pretty much entirely because of language.

Badrach was sitting in a dirty bar in Villnore, crunching on an apple. He'd lifted the apple from the bartender's counter. No idea whose it was or anything, but that didn't matter. Hell, the damn things grew on trees and they were in season, so really, why should anybody give a shit?

The place was dirty, as usual. It was packed full of dirty whores and dirty men and probably lots of dirty deals. "Good grief," he muttered, taking another bite. "The ol' dump never changes."

"So why do you keep coming back?"

The voice came from beside his shoulder, scaring the shit outta him. But he didn't let it show; he was starting to get real good at hiding it. "What the hell does it matter to you?" he answered conversationally. "You tryin' to keep me on the job again, huh?"

"I don't care what you do." Janus sat down at the table. Maybe someone might've noticed the chair moving, but if they did they were too drunk to care. "I just don't get it."

"Sure. That's why ya took th' time to come all the way down here and bug me." Badrach laughed and took another bite of his apple. "You ever had any of these? Good stuff. Ya can't get real apples anywhere but around here -"

"I don't like apples."

"Hmph." Badrach swallowed and leaned back in his chair. "Look, this used ta be my place, get me? I ain't gonna forget it, god or no god. It's all I got I can call home."

"What about Asgard?" the one-eyed bastard asked, impassive as ever. It got on Badrach's nerves, the way he could just stare anybody down. Sometimes he just wanted to grab the somber old sonofabitch and force a few ales down his throat, just to see if he even knew how to laugh anymore. "Isn't that our home?"

The old thief snorted. "That ain't our home. We were born down here, not up there."

Janus sighed, almost too quietly to hear, but Badrach knew him too well not to know he'd pissed him off. They'd had this conversation before and it never seemed to go anywhere.

He supposed he couldn't blame anybody for not trusting him. But what did they expect him to do, try to destroy the world again or somethin'? Not like he had any reason ta do that - this was the only game in town, after all. He wasn't gonna find anythin' better. He just needed ta go back where he came from once in a while and see the sights, try to get his bearings in familiar territory. Asgard was too damn big and grand for him. It made him nervous. Ever since the Valkyrie had turned into the new Lord of Creation and brought all of her servants up with her, he'd been feelin' really outta place, like he didn't belong there... like he'd just been taken' along for the ride. He didn't know why it was botherin' him so much. Maybe he just wasn't ready for all the responsibility that came along with it.

"Dammit, don't ya have a place you loved down here?" he said suddenly, looking his companion in the eye. "Somewhere you'd go home to if ya could?"

Janus didn't answer right away, but his face just got blanker and blanker, like it was trying to hide something. Badrach knew he'd struck a nerve. "I did once," he finally answered.

"So go visit and leave me the hell alone. Maybe you'll start ta get it-"

"It was burned to the ground," he continued as if he had not been interrupted. "They burned it after my father died. And when I tried to go home before, a man I had tried to help shot me in the back."

Badrach whistled low. He'd never heard that part of the story before. "Fuck," he said, because he felt like he had to say something and there wasn't anything else that really fit.

"If I'd stayed away from there, I'd still be alive. I'd..." But then he broke off and shook his head. "But that isn't important."

"The hell it ain't." Badrach took one last bite of the apple and put it down. "Look, that's tough and all, but that's... oh, hell, what do they call it? When someone's tryin' to say two things are the same and they're really different?"

"Apples and oranges?"

"Heh. Yeah, that's it. Not that I've ever had an orange, but whatever." Badrach shook his head. "Look, they stabbed me in the back here, sure, but I asked for it. They just did what they've been doin' all their lives. I ain't gonna start hatin' this place. And yeah, it's a shithole," he said, looking around. "But it's what I'm used to. Asgard's too damn fancy for me."

"So you'd rather wallow in the mud than live in luxury," Janus muttered, forcing a small smile. Probably all his face would give without cracking entirely.

"Hey, where else would a pig go?" He laughed and picked up the half-eaten apple, tossing it over his shoulder. It struck a man in the face, who jumped up screaming. "At least I'm honest 'bout what I am."

"Who threw that?" the burly man screamed, looking around in vain - not like he could see Badrach now if he didn't want him to - and disturbing the drunks and the whores. "Who the hell threw that at me?"

"See?" Badrach said again, laughing. "At least it's never dull 'round here."


End file.
